


The Shadow Elixir

by Phantom_Vidar



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Body Horror, Denial of Feelings, Diego has feelings and he doesn't want them, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pseudo-Incest, Time Travel, and Five is too eager to climb him like a tree, everyone is gonna get along and they're gonna like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Vidar/pseuds/Phantom_Vidar
Summary: With the apocalypse averted the Hargreeves attempt to rebuild their lives and transition into something that resembles a fraction of normalcy. A year later and strange visions start appearing to Klaus, of a dark space contaminated by souls bygone and a voice who aches to be free; especially Ben's. The apocalypse has passed but now another disaster awaits— one that Diego and Five might have accidentally walked into.Alternatively: Diego and Five have sex and coincidentally start the next stage of the end of the world.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 32
Kudos: 82





	1. Something Akin to a Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start I want to thank anyone who takes interest and actually reads my story!!!
> 
> I actually published this story on December of last year before promptly taking it down... and then regretting it. So...here I am..again.
> 
> I pretty much binged the show and the comics all at once, so some elements will be a mixture of both. Like the Hargreeves' personalities and back stories. But mostly I'll just stick to the show since it offers more substance????
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

“I did something," he hears himself say.

Through the glass the sun shines on Klaus. It illuminates him in vivid streaks of golden light and soft purple hues; that when he turns slightly to the side, at just the right angle, the silhouette of his hair mirrors that of a halo.

Diego finds it ironic.

“Oh, really, me too! If you count me avoiding the _incessant_ nagging of some very persistent dead people. But then again… we all can't live lavishly," he says. He can hear the slight tilt in his voice when he nears the end. The exasperated tone almost giving out before bringing itself in and sighing contentedly, no doubt in humor.

Diego fails to see how anything could be funny right now.

He twirls the knife in his hand, the anxiousness gripping him tighter. He can't find the words to even begin explaining what happened or how fucked up he feels on the inside. He can't even believe he ran to Klaus in the first place. What would he even say? Would he even remember? ...Not that it would matter. He always ran alone. Even if he poured his heart out he'd disappear before any of them could notice. A shadow in the night, an open window, the hum of an old engine; he was always running. Lonely and disconnected— that's how all of them were.

He looks up again, watching as Klaus whips up the eggs in the pan. An activity he did more and more often the longer he stayed in the mansion; sobriety was a good look on him.

He can feel his throat flaring up, his vocal chords winding up tight before inadvertently failing.

“That's not what I meant.”

Klaus doesn't turn around but Diego can see that it's still all a joke, that he's just waiting to make a punchline out of whatever he has to say. More than ever it feels just as pointless to tell Klaus even a fraction of the truth than keep it to himself.

“Oh?” He says, inquisitive.

He can feel his insides clash in his need for solace and his want for separation.

“You know what? Forget it. It wasn't important.”

“Oh, no no no. You've already piqued my interest, you can't just leave me hanging.” Klaus turns suddenly, his hands on his hips and an over exaggerated pout forming on his lips. The frilly baby blue apron coupled with Klaus’ expression almost gives him the sense that he isn't in reality right now. That maybe he's still dreaming and this is his way of opening up without repercussions or that nasty raw feeling he usually got when faced with things he was incapable of processing.

“Go on.” Klaus comes closer, giving a wink before placing his elbows on the table. “Tell me your darkest secrets,” he whispers.

He gets up, pushing the dagger back into its casing before stepping back. Klaus frowns.

“Oh, come on. I thought we were really having a family bonding moment there. You with the silence and brooding and me with the lively and light-hearted boyish charm. I mean, that's a dynamic duo right there. Just open up to ol’ papa Klaus right here.” He tries to motion him into his arms and Diego almost pushes him away. 

He isn't in the mood for games.

“That sounds super interesting but I'll pass. I have more important things to do than waste my time here with you.”

He can immediately see the hurt in Klaus’ eyes, even if it is an act. It works just as good as it ever did.

“Fine. Keep your secrets, and you can forget about the breakfast too!"

“Wasn't planning on eating here anyway. I'll grab something on the way home. It'll be quicker.”

“But it won't have that home cooked taste.” he puts his hands on his waist, cocking his head to the side. “I mean, you can't possibly beat my cooking.”

“I'll survive.” He takes a glance at the food behind Klaus, a smirk forming. The room wafts with the smell of burning eggs, and before Klaus can even turn around he's gone.

*

As soon as he watches the house disappear behind him everything bad he was holding inside of him dissipates. The choking feeling subsides long enough for him to finally breathe, even if his chest still felt like it was being slowly crushed.

Months old memories flashed through his mind. The same recurring visions: rising chests, swollen lips, soft hands, jet black hair, guilty eyes. He pushed them out of his mind. He wasn't responsible for what happened, and it certainly didn't mean anything. Nothing in his life really did. Things just _happened,_ specifically to him, without rhyme or reason, and he didn't think he should be at fault for that. Fate had a sense of humor when it came to him, and Diego just didn't get the joke.

Everything lately felt like a blur. His consciousness tethering between present and vacant.

He hardly felt like a person. He was stuck in the past and he didn't know how to move on. Even with the world saved, everything he cared about was lost.

“If you're going to drive you might as well pay attention.”

He snaps his eyes upwards. Looking into the rearview mirror, green eyes meet his. A feeling he thought he'd forgotten long ago suddenly creeps up on him. Like icy tendrils digging deep inside his lungs, he's frozen and locked into place.

“What do you want?” Diego can't look away as he watches his jaw go taut. Shame, maybe indignation. He was always good at hiding what he really felt. Now more than ever.

“I want to talk.”

“Talk? What do we need to talk about?” He glances away, out the window and into the street. His eyes follow the various strangers walking down the street. He fixates on their faces, trying to imagine what they're thinking, what their lives are like. If theirs are as fucked up as his is right now at this exact moment… _Probably not._

Five drones out behind him, his voice drifting in and out of focus. Diego doesn't listen and he doesn't look back. He can't take seeing the same look from all those nights ago rewritten in the gaze of burning eyes, even if it's _him._

Diego pulls up underneath one of the stone bridges by the house just as he finishes, his hands shaking.

“—I think you already know.” Five's eyebrows scrunch together, anger bubbling just beneath the cool exterior.

“Last time we _talked_ it didn't end very well from what I remember." Diego purses his lips, clearly uncomfortable. "So forgive me if I'm not exactly jumping for joy at another chance encounter."

Five rolls his eyes.

“Don't get so defensive, because from what _I_ remember, I wasn't the only one who talked… In fact it was very much a mutual conversation." he quips as his mouth curves into a lazy smirk.

Diego swallows the knot forming in his throat. He can practically feel Five's eyes boring into the back of his skull; daring him to meet his.

“Yeah, well, it's not like I wanted it to happen.” He shrugs, his hands practically gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

He tries to be nonchalant, to act like everything's fine, like it didn't matter. It was one mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, no big deal.

Five immediately bristles, his eyes growing alarmingly huge. Diego gets the sense that he just picked the worst possible thing to say.

“Who said I did?” he snaps back sharp as a whip.

“I never— look, I am **_not_ ** having this conversation right now. Get out. Or poof out— or whatever the hell it is you do."

“It's called time travel, dumbass, and I'm _not_ leaving.” He pulls out a dagger. Cool metal pushes against his throat, glistening in the sun. Their eyes meet again and all he sees is cold calculation. All this time Five was the wolf and Diego was his sacrificial lamb. It figures that he was always out of the loop for things that were so obvious: like the fact that Five always got what he wanted by any means necessary.

"What the fuck? When did you even get that?"

He shrugs.

"You were sleeping. It was fair game."

"What? That's not even how it works!" Diego sputters out.

"Well that's how _I_ work, so shut _up._ I don't care how much you think what happened didn't matter.” He pushes deeper, surprisingly strong hands digging into Diego's shoulders. Five's mouth nuzzles against his cheek, almost as if savoring the feel of his skin as Diego struggles to breathe. “It matters to me, and whether you like it or not we're going to talk because I'm not going to let it ruin this family again."

“Is that what it's really about?” Diego pushes against the blade only to have it drawn even tighter, Five's eyes blazing. “Or is it something else? Cause that sounds like a ton of bullshit."

He steels himself, as if it disgusts him just to say it.

“I haven't figured that out yet,” Five says.

“And what happens when you do?”

“I don't know. But what I do know is that it won't go away unless we deal with it. So either you deal with it like an adult," the knife trails up to his jaw then, gliding precariously close to his stubble before Five scratches against it. He stays still as his thumb comes to rest on the edge of his mouth, warm lips pressing lightly against his ear. "Or I can make you. It's really very simple."

_Fuck_

“Fine, but give me back my knife.”

“Nope.” He smirks, snatching it back just before Diego can grab it. “Finders, keepers. Now drive.”

*

Being back at Diego's apartment feels like the worst case of déjà vu. The walls look just like they did when he was blackout drunk as they do in the daylight. The small space emits a warmth to it, even with how little occupies it.

Fragments of hardly pieced together memories bombard him. His senses clouded by overbearing sensations. Cologne and musk, an unraveled necktie, the clang of metal hitting the floor, a stolen kiss and whiskey on his lips. Sometimes he wishes it never happened and other times, when he's alone at night, in the darkness of his room, he admits to himself that maybe he did, that maybe it was supposed to happen, even if he didn't plan it.

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Diego walks to the coffee pot, pouring him a cup and stirring sugar into his as he pulls a sandwich out of his pocket. He takes a bite then, his cheeks bunching up comically.

He looks up, still stuck in his daze. Five finally notices Diego in his entirety. Long messy hair, sunken eyes, with his usual smirk gone. Hollow, and yet just as striking as he ever was. 

_"A broken man is never easy to tame,"_ the Handler's voice echoes.

“I do.” He doesn't turn, still inspecting the room around him. Books put together against a wall, a poster of an unfamiliar band, clothes thrown into a corner, a small plant on the side table. He walks forward, his fingers ghosting over the books sides, the dust catching on his fingertips. He flicks his eyes to the side, hoping to find Diego's eyes on him. As they meet a shiver runs down his spine.

He watches as he follows his every move. Diego's brown eyes wide and attentive. Five smiles as he picks out a book from the shelf: _Knives: The Definitive Introduction to Knives, Sharpening, and Cutting Techniques._ Beside it were numerous books ranging from dark fantasy to things they used to read when they were kids, worn edges and all.

When was the last time you read any of these?” Diego pauses, caught off guard.

“I don't know. Years, maybe.”

“Why not?” He looks up, watching as he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“I was always busy.” He says through mouthfuls. “There was never a good time. 'ore important things to do.”

“Like?”

“Saving the world.” he takes a swig of coffee before giving him a pointed look. “Look, enough questions. You wanted to talk then talk. No more games.”

“I thought you'd want to ease into it.”

“Yeah, well, I'm over it.”

He waits a moment before turning towards him, his heart fit to burst with each step closer.

He sits on one of the chairs, his feet daintily crossed on top of each other as he positions himself just far enough away from Diego. Not that it would help against one of his knives anyway. He reaches for his coffee, taking a sip as he scans Diego's face.

"Tell me, what do you remember?"

"Remember from what?" Diego makes it a point not to look.

"Oh, I don't know— between me taking a swig from your stashed liquor bottles to having my mouth on your dick. How about that? Or is that too difficult for your little pigeon brain to comprehend?"

“…Shit.” he groans.

“You said no games.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Answer the question, Diego.” he presses.

He drags his hands through his face.

“I…I don't know.”

“You don't know or you don't want to remember?”

He catches Diego's eyes and sees the same boy from their youth: afraid, lost, and uncertain. He feels his fingers tingle with the desire to hold him, even for just a second. To feel his warm skin against his fingertips and revelling as his face sinks into his aching hands in relief. He wants to see what it feels like to touch him when they're sober and to take in his gasping breaths against his lips. To kiss him until he was the only thing he could taste. To exhale only him, to protect him when he couldn't protect himself. He imagines in that fleeting moment a restless breath in his ear, warm hands around his hips, a kiss down his neck, and a wanting sigh just before the cold splash of reality hits him.

He feels his insides turn in anguish.

“I don't know.” He hears Diego say. A whisper so soft he almost thinks it to be imagined.

“Do you regret it?”

He can see the wheels turning in his head as every single memory from that night instantly plays through his mind. He grimaces before looking away, his cheeks flushed.

“I don't know.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Well, it's the only one I fucking got, _kid_."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not—"

"Oh, fuck you! Would it kill you to just be honest?" He slams his cup on the table, his hands trembling in frustration.

“What do you want from me?” His voice drops again, shaking. Five can feel the line withering away slowly to reveal more of the truth. “What the hell do you want me to say?”

“The _truth_.”

"And why the hell do you care so much? Why do you keep pushing?"

Five stares at him, dumbstruck and so incredibly love sick. He hates himself for it.

"I don't know."

He comes closer, his face inches away from Diego's. In the light of the sun he squirms, trapped by ivy green and unrelenting pursuit. Five catches his breath as long fingers hold his face in place. His body practically vibrates with excitement as he feels the energy shift between them.

He stares up at him, wanting him closer; to feel the last of his resolve slip away.

“Don't," Diego's voice cracks as he applies more pressure, his fingers practically digging into the bone of Five's jaw. “Just don't— _I can't give you what you want."_

He reaches up and places his hand above Diego's, squeezing lightly before intertwining their fingers.

“Please.” Five whispers.

The city bustles outside and yet inside Diego's room time seems to stand still in reverence. He grips his fingers tighter in an attempt to lull him into compliance.

Before him there was no one. Throughout his life, during and after the missions and the Temps Aeternalis there had never been one; except for Dolores. Sure, there were other women who took satisfaction from his varied _experience and skills,_ while some others merely wanted to taste what the flesh of a young body could do. He never became attached. It was always about being number Five; about being a cold and calculated killer who could never feel the weight of just how much blood was on his hands. He romanced them, he played them, he even did a couple for the strangeness of it all, but he had never felt the unrelenting desire to belong to somebody.

Every time he looked at Diego something inside him came alive. It was an obsession— an infatuation so intense that some days it was all he could think about. What was born merely from curiosity turned into an insatiable monster. His mind couldn't process the realization that the most intimacy he ever had romantically was with a mannequin that couldn't even talk.

Diego was the only one who perceived him for what he actually was. The only one broken enough to equal him in a world where everything had gone to shit then turned back unto itself again. There was no illusion, no feeling of grandiosity from conquering a body that already wanted to be his. It was merely the primal desire to connect with something beyond himself, and in the deepest corners of his mind, etched into his paper thin heart was Diego's name ready to burst through his skin and claim him. He wanted his humanity back. To feel like he was never allowed to, even if that meant forsaking everything he had tried to save in the past.

Diego was the only factor in his life he couldn't control, and he liked it that way.

“Close your eyes.” Five says. Diego hesitates, unsure. “Just trust me, alright?”

He nods and shuts his eyes, his lips slightly twitching in unease.

He leans forward slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he stops in front of Diego's lips. He places his hand over his chest, feeling Diego's heart race wildly under his fingertips.

Even now he couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him to run. If he disappeared right now there would be no feelings, no lingering ugly truths or notions of grief. He could leave and erase everything that had ever happened. If he left now there would be no memories, no past. Just his own mind replaying distant memories of an alternate reality that would never come to exist.

_'All you have to do is walk away. Just teleport and pretend nothing happened… for the rest of your life. You can do that. You did it for sixty-five years, you can do it for eighty more.'_

He looks up at Diego again and bunches up the fabric of his shirt gently between his fingers. What was in front of him was real, and no matter how fucked up it was he wanted it. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything before.

_Fuck it._

Five closes his eyes before moving forward and kissing him. Diego stills, taken aback, before moving his hands up to his face and drawing him closer. His fingers ghost over his skin, so gentle in their caress that he can barely feel his touch. He kisses him with a gentleness Five had never seen him exhibit before. Diego had always been brash, callous, and more than anything, extremely antagonistic. But here, in the small, dimly lit boiler room Diego held him like he was afraid he'd disappear, as if at any moment he'd open his eyes and realize that there had never been anyone truly there.

He wants for whatever it is between them to mean something, for Diego to be more than a fleeting moment of bliss before inadvertent heartbreak. 

Five raises himself on top of the table and pulls Diego over him. He breathes in his scent, the smell of worn out cologne washing over him as Diego clings to him, his beard scratching his jaw with every kiss.

Gentle kisses laced with trepidation slowly turn ardent, and before he can process what's going on Diego has him pinned. His chest presses against Five, holding him in place on top of the kitchen table as he moves the remaining cups out of the way. Five's hands slip into his hair, gently holding him in place as Diego kisses down his face. His lips come to rest against his jugular, pecking softly at his skin before biting lightly, his breaths harsh against his neck. Five caresses him, eyes shut and his wits barely about him. In the flurry of kisses he feels his legs widen; allowing Diego to slot between them, so close that their stomachs touch. He feels the pressure building inside him, the want flaring up and overtaking him. Was it always supposed to feel this good?

Diego nips at his jaw harder, his hands sliding underneath perfectly ironed clothes and gripping him tight. His thoughts start to become hazy. He knows where it can go if he doesn't impose the modicum of self-control he has left, but if he lets go who's to say Diego won't shut him out? That what they had now won't ever happen again? 

Five pulls him up, his shaking hands clasping onto Diego's face as he kisses him one last time. He tries to pull back but Diego follows the movement of his mouth, rosy lips crashing against his with a fervor that debilitates him completely. He wants to tell him to stop, but he can't find it inside himself to push him away when he looks at him like _that_. His eyes glazed over and brown irises turned to honey gold.

He places his hand against his cheek, taking it in. Diego's lips form into a pout, his slightly grown out hair framing the side of his face haphazardly. He wants Diego whether it ends up killing him or not.

A strong pressure builds into his abdomen, jittery nails scraping his skin before pulling off.

“What the fuck just happened?” Diego murmurs to himself. He steps back, a distant look on his face. 

Five lays on the table, staring at Diego as he tries to compose himself. In between spurts of disbelief, he talks to himself like a scared child awaiting punishment, as if trying to reason with a being that would simply not listen.

“Diego—”

He stills completely, his face morphing back into one of indifference.

“You need to leave.”

“I don't understand—”

“Well that's a first.” He walks back towards the table, grabbing the coffees and pouring them down the drain.

“Do _not_ turn your back on me,” He hisses.

Diego turns and makes a face, a deprecating smile coming to rest on his lips.

Nothing pissed off Five more than having his authority revoked and Diego was willing to push all of his little buttons if it meant he'd leave him alone.

“You are not a threat, _brother_.” He emphasizes, watching as Five's mouth turns into a snarl.

He teleports next to him while he scrubs the dishes.

“Would you shut up for once and actually listen to me?”

Diego scrubs harder, trying to drone out Five. He doesn't want to hear about _that_ night, or think about it or what just happened. He doesn't even want to acknowledge what's happening between them _now_ because all it does is make his stomach churn with feelings he can't quite wrap his head around; and there's nothing he hates more than things he's incapable of understanding.

“It doesn't have to be complicated.” Five says, gripping his shoulder. He moves a bit closer, turning the faucet off.

“It's always complicated,” He says bitterly. "I don't want to think about this anymore, okay? From now on, it didn't happen. None of it."

He's so angry— so consumed with malice that he barely hears the door burst open.

"... Okay... Since when do the two of you hang out?"

Allison stares at them from the doorway.

The three of them lock eyes and before Diego can even think of a response Five replies smoothly, his voice absent of any emotion.

"We don't. I was just leaving." Five mutters before disappearing. In his place, Diego feels small waves of cool air extend towards him.

"Actually— and he's gone. Figures." Allison chirps innocently from the doorway. Diego feels like a sinner in church. Like at any moment Allison will look just a little too close and see that he's actually the devil in disguise.

"What do you want?" He grunts.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"...Like _that_ wasn't weird at all."

"Do you actually need something or are you just here to bother me?"

He looks up at her finally, noticing immediately that her usually bright eyes were barely containing tears. The guilt eats at him just as her face scrunches up.

_How many more times could he possibly fuck up in one day?_

"I'm going to ignore your salty attitude and pretend that you're happy to see me because I'm about to bestow you with _the_ greatest news." Diego scoffs.

"Better than Five disappearing for the last sixteen years?"

"What? No!" She makes a face, the same one she used to make when they were kids and she had something to say but knew it wasn't the right time. She raises her hand accusingly and points a finger at him. "I'm not even going to get into how messed up that is."

"Can you please get to the point."

"Right. The point."

Diego motions with his hands, ushering her to speak.

"Well… we think we might've found Ben."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrible with updating or with self-motivating so idk when I'll write the next chapter or even post it. But I do want to continue so I'll see what happens.
> 
> Also, fun fact, the name of this chapter on my google docs is: break up with your girlfriend cause I'm bored. For like...some reason
> 
> By all means, let me know how y'all feel about it!!!


	2. It Started Out With A Bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin you may have noticed that the rating and the tags have changed. There's a reason for it, seeing as this chapter contains somewhat of a...treat.
> 
> Please remember that everything in italics are either thoughts or past dialogue, both which are internal. Also I curse like a sailor, so my writing will reflect that somewhat (sorry!)
> 
> This is also the easiest writing has ever come to me in like ten years, so I hope all of you enjoy!

Standing outside of Vanya's apartment in the middle of the night was not something he expected himself to be doing; nor was it a choice made with contentment. He felt like a stray— a sickly dog with its tail tucked between its legs, feigning weakness.

In the darkness, the lights from the street lamps shone over the crystalline puddles, illuminating the still water with shimmering hues. Looking down, his reflection stared back at him. Unlike reality, his eyes shone, exhibiting a youthfulness that had long gone. For a second he wished to jump into clear water and be purified, to see the other side of what could be, to forget his past life and be anew— to create anew, to be someone else.

He looked back at the puddle and dipped the tip of his shoe in it, watching as the water turned brown from the mud stirred underneath. It seemed much was indeed like reality. The past would always be tarnished if he continued looking to it for answers. It was a scar, healed and unmovable, but with the right treatments— the right actions, they could be turned almost invisible. He closed his eyes, imagining himself in front of a wooly carpet, a broken lamp shade flickering behind closed lids, the scent of vanilla and berries wafting in from the next room. The crash of ceramic startled him as much as it did Vanya. He should've remembered that she always drank a cup of tea before bed, though he fully expected her to be asleep by now.

As he fixed his gaze on her, her frightened form slowly relaxed.

"You do realize it's three in the fucking morning, right?" Her eyebrows cinched together in exasperation. If she didn't have such a baby face he'd find it more effective.

"I'm aware." He looked back at her blankly.

She crouched down, picking up the remnants of the broken teacup between pinched fingers. She gave him a dirty glare.

"That one was my favorite. Now it's just… massacred." She scooped the remainder of it into her palm, staring sadly at the broken pieces. "That was from the Louvre!"

"Fine. Give me a second. Don't move."

"What are—," before she could finish he disappeared, before quickly reappearing next to her. He waited for her to settle before placing the seemingly reassembled cup into her hand.

"You know, I would've gotten a book. Lasts longer too."

"...Right. Why are you here?" She stared at him, almost inquisitively before settling back on the couch. Five follows.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me either." She waited, fiddling with the hem of her shirt before looking up. "Wanna talk about it?"

Five hesitated. What the fuck would he even say? That he got into a stupid almost fight with Diego over something ridiculous?

He pretends to feign innocence instead.

"There's nothing to talk about," he says.

"Right." She cocks her head to the side, examining him. Her hands fiddle with the teacup in her lap, twisting it back and forth as she stares. He feels the knot in his throat tighten. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Not this."

"What could be worse than an apocalypse? Come on," Vanya says.

He mulls it over, running it back in his mind, weighing the pros and cons before he decides not to. He wouldn't burden her with even more of his bullshit. Diego was his mess to clean up. His little lighthouse of impending doom that was leading him straight into a storm of jagged rocks and he was just willfully ignoring all the signs at this point.

"A lot of things." His lips curl, finding a twisted sort of amusement in his own misery.

"Okay…" she says. "I'm just gonna drop it for now and bookmark this conversation for later." She pours another cup from on top of the table and takes a sip from it, her eyes looking up at him from above the rim. "I _will_ get it out of you."

"The chances of that happening are astronomically low. I've been tortured before, Vanya." He chuckles lightly. Vanya stops suddenly. "I mean: heated knives, nails guns, electrifying rods, paring knives. However, there was always one in particular that they kept coming back to. Created in the early seventeenth century, the pear of anguish was certainly a favorite amongst most cronies. They had a certain affinity for oddities if you will," he says.

"You've been tortured?" She asks so quietly that Five regrets even mentioning anything in the first place.

In moments like these he forgets how much of his childhood was actually robbed from him.

"It's not really all it's cut out to be. The people are lunatics at best. Honestly, their breath is always the most unpleasant part about it." He tries to smooth over it, like it wasn't actually that big of a deal. Sure he had been knocked around a few times— _okay, maybe a lot_ — but Vanya didn't need to know that.

All the scars had been erased from his body anyway. All he had were memories and those barely stuck around long enough to mean anything.

She blinks back at him, completely phased out before she snaps out of it again.

"I'm sorry, can we go back to the torture part?"

"You're still caught up on the pear." He replies dryly. "It's a metal device, egg shaped at the end and operated by a screw which slowly expands inside whatever orifice it's placed in."

Vanya grimaces. Five takes note of the way her eyes shy away, clearly disturbed.

"You're insane. Like, you do hear yourself, right?"

He smiles.

"Sometimes."

"And?" She scoots forward, the cup nestled between her hands partly like a child. In the warm light of the apartment, Vanya bumps her feet against his. He stares for a moment before copying and laying his feet on top of hers.

"It's the past. Let's leave it at that," he says.

Her face scrunches up, her eyes watering slightly before she shakes the expression loose.

"Okay. I can do that."

*

He leaves right after Vanya falls asleep, a little sticky note stuck onto her fridge with a janky smiley face sprawled across on the paper. He stares at it. What the fuck was he so happy about anyway?

_'You're alive. Everyone you love is safe. Isn't that enough?'_

He supposes.

That bitter feeling crawls up his throat again. Like bile rising up, he feels the need to scream, to shred his vocal cords raw till he can't let out a sliver of a hoarse. He wants to smash something, to feel the pain run through his hands.

He feels so incredibly stupid for thinking that Diego would even come around.

What did he even expect him to say?

 _"I can't give you what you want."_ The words echo in his mind, burning and sacrilegious.

What the hell did that even mean?

He'd never known Diego to actually think things through before, even when it came to their little affair. To see him show even a bit of self control now was jarring. He'd imagined it so many times before, his hand working slowly as Diego's face flittered in and out of his mind.

Having it actually happen wasn't something he was exactly expecting considering the way it went down.

He remembers waking up to Diego gone, his clothes folded and placed at the foot of the bed, the opposite side of the mattress cold and long abandoned. Reality was often disappointing, even when it came to Diego. He tries to make peace with it, to convince himself that it didn't matter, that Diego didn't want him. He should be content with the scraps he got and move on. It was better for both of them that way.

Five looks back at the drawing, noticing the way the second half of the smiley barely stays straight before ending abruptly. He contemplates tearing it down and throwing it into the trash right before he catches Vanya's face. She looks so tired, so _old_ , and so incredibly vulnerable. He wants to freeze this moment, to trap her in his safety net and never let go.

 _'Don't make it worse. Don't make it worse,'_ he repeats to himself.

Five leaves it there just as he warps out.

*

He'd been seeing the same place in his dreams for months now. A blank, glittering canvas painted in hues of blues and shrouded in darkness before exploding open and raining down like confetti. Klaus could hear the voices beckoning him. Like a crawl, they made their way slowly to him. It never ceased, their voices whispering in his ear as he slept and slinking away when he woke. Sometimes he could make out a few words, other times he barely understood a thing. One thing remained constant: the feeling of overbearing and impenetrable dread.

He shrugged it off most days, but most days didn't include Ben.

At least not anymore.

_"It's coming. I can't stop it."_

The words came garbled, as if weaving through static yet somehow astoundingly clear.

He replayed the words in his mind, so much so that it was beginning to sound like a complete fever dream. Surely, he was hallucinating. Ben hadn't spoken to him in months, let alone made an appearance. It couldn't be him.

Even with his newfound sort of sobriety, it seemed he hadn't regained his sanity.

Klaus tried reaching out for several minutes only to be met with silence.

_'Why doesn't that surprise me.'_

He barely manages to get up before he's assaulted by an excruciating pain. It floods him all at once, etching into his mind like a burst of flames. He feels a scream rip through him just as his head hits the floor. The base of his skull pops, a round of flashing lights crescendoing into a blinding haze right before going blank. In seconds he's brought back to that place. If it could even be called that. He's stuck floating, his feet dangling in midair as his arms weave through the empty space.

Klaus blinks his eyes once… twice… thrice before promptly freaking the fuck out.

"Okay, focus, focus, focus. " He looks out at the vast expanse, the shimmering stars blinking in and out from his sight. "None of this is real." He laughs, rubbing his eyes. " _Blyat._ This is because of last night, isn't it? You take one pill and all hell breaks loose."

He tries moving in the seemingly endless galaxy only to find his limbs have shut off, the edges of his fingers turning icy cold as if frost had suddenly grown on them. Klaus feels it extended up his arm, digging into his skin one by one like teeth, the small pinpricks plucking at his hairs like strings.

"What is happening?"

He shuts his eyes, the cold spreading throughout his body as he weaves between the fringes of this reality and the next. The air pulls at him, seemingly attempting to make his body a permanent fixture in the star's landscape. When he opens them again a sheet of ice envelops him. Like a cast, it adheres to the varying lines of his body, each dip accentuated with blooms of ice.

 _'Oh god, oh god, what is that?'_ Klaus' eyes widen in terror, the edges of his lashes turning white as it grows up his face and into his hair.

_'Resist it.'_

The voice comes to him clearly. It rings in his mind, reverberating inside the emptiness before he recognizes it as Ben's.

His mouth can barely move as it mutters, "Ben, buddy, you have to help me out here. My bits are about to freeze off."

_'Quiet. It'll hear you.'_

He feels a sensation akin to phantom hands guide him slowly to a corner. They press into the small of his back, warm hands melting into the frost where they rest. Klaus glides through the air before he comes to a halt in front of an endless darkness. At first it seems much like everything else around him: large and completely enigmatic. He feels small next to it, as if at any moment he'd be swallowed up by the sheer enormity of it. Klaus peers back at the empty space, confused and lost to its function. For a moment he imagines himself back at his room, the twinkling lights coming just into view as he wakes up. He wishes he were back in his own bed, instead he's stranded out in some weird interdimensional plane.

"What is this?" Klaus speaks out, his voice barely a huff as his teeth clamor inside his mouth. He feels his lips crack under the layer of frost, the taste of copper bleeding into his mouth like rivulets.

_'Look closer.'_

Klaus feels the hands push forward. He watches as the darkness suddenly shifts, the seemingly empty space transforming into makeshift walls from the new angle. With a last tilt, his nose presses against the fixture. His eyes focus onto a thin parallel crack that runs along the side of it. Klaus brings his hands up to the edge, his fingers trembling in exertion as they crack one by one, the ice melting off in patches as he pushes the opening cautiously.

Inside, his pupils blow open as a blinding light pierces into them. Only when they retract does he finally take in where he is. It's the same room from that small house in Rodeo that he stayed at for a bit. Same white walls covered in plants with that dingy mattress thrown onto the floor— no sheets, just a hand-me-down quilt he stole from a thrift shop along with a tattered up pillow that had clearly seen better days. He takes it in, watching as a blue light slowly comes into view. From the corner Ben peers up at him.

He looks older, even with his hair laid back and that same stupid jacket he always wore that Klaus hated. He smiles as if their meeting was just a common occurrence. A slight of hand there, a trick of fate here, and eventually they would come to meet again. Klaus never seemed to understand why. What was so important that they were forced to come together time and again?

"Long time no see."

Klaus stares at him, completely taken aback. He hobbles forward slowly, his leg limping slightly with each step.

"You would say that," he retorts.

Klaus stops in front of him and takes in the contours of Ben's face. Even in such harsh lighting his features remained soft, his eyes shining in mirth as Klaus examined him. He brings his hand upward, his fingers inching ever closer to Ben's cheek before settling on his side. Klaus expects for his fingers to run through but instead they remain there, skin to skin, and so agonizingly real that his heart clenches.

"You're…you're really here." Klaus catches himself then, extracting his fingers from his face in embarrassment. His fingers burn at the tips, his skin tingling and sore from the touch, as if being near Ben was suddenly too much to bear. He makes a fist and puts it against his side. "Well, wherever here is."

Ben laughs.

"Trust me, I have no idea. My guess is as good as yours." He stops. "Actually, scratch that. My guess is twice as good as yours."

"How lovely," Klaus says. "And pray tell, what has your genius intellect picked up on from inside your gilded cage? Not just bars I hope."

Ben stares, not computing until Klaus reaches out again to touch him. His eyes focus back onto him.

"Not much," Ben says.

Klaus brings his arms around himself, shaking as he takes in his surroundings.

"I was hoping you'd know a little more than 'not much'. For example, how you're here right now. Or I don't know, how an ice fungus started growing on me like I'm some eight week old bread."

"I can't help with that."

"So, you're useless. That's nothing new. Even as a ghost."

"Apparition." Ben corrects. "And I did save you just now."

"You say apparition, I say nuisance. Almost sounds the same too if you shut both your ears and forget the English language altogether."

"You're annoying." Ben says.

"Annoyingly beautiful and smart, yes. How observantly kind of you my dear dead brother who art thou in heaven."

"This isn't heaven and you're not smart as you think you are. You have the emotional and mental range of a dead fish whose half of its brain has succumbed to naegleria fowleri."

Klaus scrunches up his face.

"Gross. You sounded like Five. Which, as you know, is my least favorite sibling in my top ten tier list."

"There's seven of us, dumbass."

"You have to leave the spaces when you place him at the bottom. It really drives home how insufferable he is."

"I'm sure he feels the same way about you," Ben says. "But I'll bite, who's your top?"

Klaus inhales.

"That's a very… _loaded_ question."

"Not like that."

Klaus stops and thinks.

"Allison. She's a boss bitch, she's smart, beautiful, always gets what she wants, total angel. What's not to love?"

"And me?"

"You know, I just adore you to _little pieces."_

"Wow. It's crazy to think that you actually wanted to be a comedian when we were kids. Glad Dad really drove in that trauma and crippled you completely for the sake of all humanity."

"Dad wasn't human. He was a monster." Klaus laughs but it's empty. "And now, neither are you technically. You're just dead, so I guess I won."

"So is Dad." Ben says. "Sometimes, living isn't exactly all you thought it would be. The way we lived, the way we carried out our existence, it was only to survive." He stops, picking his words carefully. "You know what Dad used to say."

Klaus tries to suppress a groan.

"The living will envy the dead," he says.

"No. It was more than that: 'Do not lose time on daily trivialities. Do not dwell on petty detail. For all of these things melt away, and drift apart within the obscure traffic of time. Live well, and live broadly. You are alive and living now. Now is the envy of all of the dead."

"Or as I more eloquently express," Klaus supplies, "Live fast, die young, get pegged and do drugs."

"That's not at all a string of words that should go together but somehow you make it work. It must be nice living in your fantasy world where absolutely nothing makes sense."

"It has its perks. Like not having people nagging me for every little thing. If I leave my clothes out, guess what? I'm naked now and they don't exist. That's how you do it."

"Why did I get the one brain cell in our family?"

"Because you're boring. The rest of us are having fun being stupid. Which reminds me," Klaus says. "Since I'm so clueless, mind filling me in on what the hell is going on here? Like, hasn't God fucked us enough this year. Or would that be Zeus? Can they be interchangeable?"

"No. Also, stop talking. This is important."

"What's important enough that I have to be quiet?" Klaus says.

Ben looks at him, a scowl adorning his face. Klaus expects him to fire back at him, his lips quirking mischievously before he promptly disappears; instead he sits on the ground, his legs crossed one on top of the other, impatiently awaiting Klaus' presence. Klaus shuffles over and plops himself down on the mattress across Ben, the ends of his feet bumping clumsily against the edge of his boots.

"Criss-cross applesauce it is." Klaus whispers to himself.

"You look like shit by the way," Ben says, not at all serious. Klaus has half the mind to laugh, his shoulders aching with the movement.

"It's called fashion, babe. You _wish_ you were even remotely this sexy. Instead, you've got the whole hot topic thing going on with the same jacket from two thousand and nine."

"And you say Five's insufferable. The irony," Ben says.

His face scrunches up, the wrinkles by his nose becoming deeper as he smirks in amusement.

"Listen, Atticus, as much as I love visiting you out in your little space hut—"

"Interdimensional metaphysical plane of existence."

"Sure. Of course. All of that. Whatever that means."

"Yeah, about that…"

Klaus falls back on the mattress, his fingers twisting into the quilt and his legs propping themselves up languidly on Ben's knees. He crosses his arms behind his head and looks at him from the other side of the bed.

"Here we go," Klaus sighs.

For once, just once, he'd like some good news.

Fate had other plans it seemed.

*

He fidgeted all the way through the car ride, his hands tapping in intervals from one knee to the other. Diego repeated the process, the rhythm bouncing along in his mind as he battled the chaos inside it.

 _'Should I look at her? Wait, no—_ **_don't do that. Then she'll know…_ ** _But if I don't look at her then she'll definitely know—_ **_yeah, and then you're really screwed_ ** _.'_

Diego sneaks a glance at Allison, her brow cocking as she drives. He digs his fingers into his thighs until it hurts, his nails turning a pale white as he averts his eyes.

_'Okay, bad idea. Just act normal.'_

He tries sinking deeper into the seat, his feet drawn tight together against the bar at the bottom, the metal edge pushing into skin with each tap of his foot. He likes the pain, maybe a bit too much. Sometimes much more than what was actually good for him— much more than he would ever care to admit. He thinks it's in his nature to want punishment, to revel in the way he can reset his bones time and time again to fit the will of his judgement. He likes it, likes the way he can take it, likes that he can call himself a martyr if the need ever arises. But most of all, he likes that he considers himself deserving of it. That by being who he had always been, he had somehow provoked the wrath of whatever old and unmerciful god that was tasked with watching over him.

He takes the endless pain with grace, the knife twisting ever deeper until his lungs collapse and he's coughing up blood. He thinks it's fitting, that only with his blood would he ever be able to atone for all the hurt he had caused; his life hanging on the line so precariously that at any moment it'd come crashing down, bloody broken bones and old bruises that were never good enough to amount to anything else.

"Are you okay?" Allison asks softly from beside him. Diego stills, caught off guard and at a loss for words.

He stops thrumming his fingers long enough to hum a vague answer before changing the station. The too loud static buzzes inside the cabin as Diego finds something, anything, to fill the silence. He settles on some bullshit old eighties station right before Allison's hand slaps his away and turns it off.

"What the hell was that for?" He blurts out incredulously.

"You're acting weird and I want to know why."

Allison looks back at him, her large eyes staring right through him.

"There, you did that thing with your eyebrow!" she says. "You've had the same tell since we were kids. Every time you lie it goes off without fail."

"You can quit trying to use your 'Mom' powers on me. It's not going to work." Diego huffs.

Allison's face steels into something he can't quite comprehend, her brows raising slightly at the edges and her lips pursing. Diego feels his insides churn.

Even before she was a mother, she had always been the strongest of them. The watcher, a protector, the only one they went to when things became too difficult to handle. He finds it saddening how even as adults, he still couldn't come close to her, not in character and definitely not in his ambitions. He was stuck being that same boy from his childhood wearing the mantle of hero with no true understanding of what it actually meant to be one.

It never fit. The sleeves were too long, the body too wide. He would look into the mirror only to see his image distorted. It was never enough. But Allison, she never had to try. Everything was handed to her on a silver platter. Dad's affection, his approval, his tolerance. He never measured up. For a long time he hated her for it. He was angry and bitter, thinking himself robbed of something he was more deserving of. Diego craved to be normal, to grow and have his own place— his own things, untouched and untainted from his family. Like he always had to prove he was somehow better than the others.

It wasn't until much later that Diego realized that Allison had always been on his side, that all this time he was too stubborn to notice all the ways in which she had tried to make it up to him throughout the years, how she had wanted to be there for him, only to be met with resentment.

"I bet I can take you on," she says.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she drawls out, the corners of her mouth turning up just as the light from the street lamps up ahead hit her face, "that I can see right through your little act, and let me tell you, it's not fooling anyone."

"Your powers of perception astound me, sis." He leans against the seat, his back rigid as he pulls out a knife. He twirls it around in his hands, the point digging every so often into the pads of his fingers. "If only any of that shit were true."

"The way you practically froze up told me all I needed to know. Also, your eyebrow twitched. Again." She smirks. "It seems that number two really _is_ a big fat liar."

He pushes the tip of the knife into the base of his wrist and watches as the blood slowly oozes out, the bead growing larger before it trickles down the length of his arm. He wipes it away quickly.

"You know… funny thing about rumors is that you can't always believe them, especially when they come from the snake's mouth," He bites back, his eyes glaring at the side of Allison's face.

He watches as she grips the steering wheel tighter, the light in her eyes dimming.

"If that was your attempt at derailing you're gonna have to do better than that." She snides. Diego feels the heat rise up his face, his hands trembling slightly beside him. "I've got all day."

_'Shit, shit, shit.'_

His mind wanders again, the edges of his vision swimming as he remembers. Diego shuts his eyes, the feeling of slender hands gripping his neck and phantom lips grazing his cheek. Through the night's shifting lights Five's form teeters between the shadows, his blazing eyes reaching for him through the dark.

"We…" he starts off, his tongue heavy inside his mouth. Diego squeezes the knife harder, sharp edges burying into soft skin. "It was nothing. Just the same old shit."

Allison looks over at him.

He manages to meet her eyes long enough to see the confusion mirrored within them. She swallows uncomfortably, her free hand reaching towards him.

Diego lets her touch him, her fingers intertwining into his. He swallows his pride long enough to touch her back, the tip of his pinkie resting on top of hers.

Diego watches her smile, all soft and lovely and much too good for this world.

The shame comes up again.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to—"

"I don't," he says.

"Look, I know about… your _friend_." Diego stares at her, his mind drawing a blank before he recognizes what she's getting at.

"It's not…"

"Your friend, the cop." Diego breathes a sigh of relief. "Klaus told me what happened."

"Yeah, what else he say?"

He doubted Klaus actually knew shit. He was probably running off at the mouth like he always did, spouting nonsense left and right because it was the only way he knew how to be. But then again, he was there that night. Klaus saw her, right before he left her to _die_.

"That she was special. That you loved her," she says.

He feels his throat dry up, his chest sinking in just as he looks away.

It had been a while since he thought about Eudora— about the kind of person she was, about everything she left behind. There was so much left unfinished between them that Diego became plagued by the thought of her. He's thought countless times of all the things he never said, of the things he never got to do with her. He drove himself crazy running through every possible scenario, imagining what he would've done if he just got there sooner, if he could've just held her a bit longer. Even after all the anguish and self loathing Diego knew that none of it really mattered. She was gone, and even if she wasn't, they sure as hell wouldn't be together anyway.

"Yeah, she was. She saw the good in everyone, even when it wasn't there. Even when I screwed up over and over again, she was there— and I took it for granted."

"You shouldn't beat yourself up over it. It's been a year, Diego. A lot has changed. You're… _different_."

"Am I? I'm still the same selfish asshole I've always been." He swallows. "Just one fuck up after the next and the next and the next. "

Allison frowns.

"Is that what you think? That you're just this waste of space? That no one cares about you?" Allison says. "You're delusional."

He sees Five's face then, his lips twitching in his sleep as he lays on top of his chest. Diego still remembers how his skin felt under his grasp, how he trailed his fingers over the notches on his spine, his nails catching in the dips in between. He also remembers leaving him. His still sleeping form curled around the empty space Diego left.

 _'It was for the best,'_ he thinks to himself.

Five had no idea what he was asking for— what it was like to truly be with him. Diego had been there before, all wide eyed and innocent. He knew what it was like to think you had everything figured out, to feel like someone held all the answers and only they could cure you from your inconsolable loneliness. It never worked out. It was just heartbreak and pain and even more regret; and already Diego had more than enough heartache to last him several lifetimes. He wouldn't make Five another figurehead for his pain— he won't twist his desire into something so hollow just for his own gain.

Diego refused to reduce Five to just another one night stand.

He was more than just another notch on his bedpost, more than just an empty body for him to take host in.

He was more than Diego deserved.

"Nah." He leans his head against the window, watching as the street lights whizz past. "It never once crossed my mind."

Allison scoffs.

"Very convincing," she says.

"Lay off. What's with the damn interrogation?"

"No interrogation. I just want to… understand you. You keep everything bottled up all the time. Do you seriously think that's healthy?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

"You literally blow a gasket every time your blood pressure gets too high."

"Not true. And on that note, stop looking through my medicine cabinet."

"It was an accident," she says. "But seriously, are you okay? You can talk to me. I'm not going to hold it against you."

"I don't want to talk about it. Drop it."

"I just want to—"

"You don't want to do anything except pry. You don't actually care, you just want to talk to fill the silence. This is just entertainment to you," Diego says.

"You're really dumb sometimes, you know? You're so caught up in your own world that you don't even notice how much people love you, how much we sacrifice to spend time with you— with each other. Klaus wakes up every Wednesday, right at eight thirty in the morning just to spend time with Grace—"

Diego stifles a laugh.

"Is that what he told you?" He sneaks a glance. Allison's eyes perk up. "When have you ever known Klaus to wake up before nine am? For Mom?"

"Motherfucker." She mutters under her breath.

"Klaus, lying? What a surprise."

"He promised me."

She hits the steering wheel in frustration.

"Yeah, well, promises are meant to be broken. No one knows that better than Klaus," he says. "Don't tell me you expected better…" Diego clicks his tongue.

"I hate it when you get that tone. Like I'm stupid for believing it," she says. "I'm sorry that you're such a goddamn pessimist and refuse to see the good in people."

"That's not what it is." He shakes his head. "I love Klaus just like everyone else. But no amount of love is going to make him want to change. I just can't deal with it anymore. I refuse to," He says. "He has to deal with that shit on his own."

"What? So, we're just supposed to wash our hands of him? Ignore that he needs help?"

"No. But he's a big boy, he doesn't need us to tell him what's right. He knows," Diego says.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

Diego turns to look at Allison.

"You know we care about you, right? Truly?"

"Yeah," Diego says.

He ignores the way the treacherous monster in the back of his mind whispers the opposite.

"Even with all his shortcomings, Klaus genuinely tries. He listens to Vanya. He shows up to every one of her concerts. Luther too. Hell, even Five comes to dinner every once in a while." Diego's skin crawls at the mention. "We try to make time for each other because it's all we've got… You're not excluded from that," she says.

Diego huffs in response.

"What— so now we're just gonna pretend that we're all just a big happy family, singing 'Kumbaya' right before dinner every night like it's Easter Sunday?"

Allison rolls her eyes.

"You're impossible."

Diego smirks.

"Tell me about it, sweetheart."

*

He wakes to Luther's face hovering inches above his, his brows pulled tight in worry. It wasn't a sight Klaus was used to seeing.

"You're awake." Luther moves away when he sits up, wringing his hands as he watches.

"Ugh, it feels like my head was bludgeoned by a steel bat."

"Klaus, you hit your head on the way down. It's only natural that you'll feel like shit for the next couple of days," he explains, like it was somehow supposed to make it better.

"Where are the others?" He looks around, noticing the suddenly empty room.

"Allison left to find Diego."

_'Great.'_

"And Vanya?"

Luther sighs.

"She's not picking up, so she's probably asleep."

Klaus tries to get up, his knees almost buckling under the weight of him. Luther pushes him back down.

"Lie down, Klaus. You're not supposed to be up. Mom said so."

He tries getting up again, swatting Luther's hands away like a child.

"What Mom doesn't know won't hurt her." He pouts. "Now get off of me so I can get a damn Tylenol."

"Klaus— No." Luther pushes again. Klaus bites his hands.

He'd had enough of Luther hovering over him like a mother hen, constantly watching, practically coddling him to the point of suffocation. If he wasn't so clingy, Klaus would be endeared with how much he cared.

He grips Luther's hands in his and squeezes as hard as he can, Klaus' arms trembling as he tries to push back. Before long they're engaged in a petty squabble, Luther's arms wrapped around his neck while Klaus tries slapping at his face.

"Stop resisting and lie back down, Klaus or I swear to god—"

"You'll what? I'm practically a twig, Luther. There's not much you can do except crush me."

"Then shut up and listen to me."

Klaus gasps and pretends to be offended.

"This is a hate crime! You think just because I'm a twink you can manhandle me like this? Let go."

Luther pauses, clearly confused.

"I don't even know what that is," he says.

Klaus manages to break free, his hair frizzled up as he pants heavily against the sofa.

"Oh my god. You really are straight. Just straight as a nail can be— though even that can be _bent_. " He laughs as Luther's face scrunches up. "Just hetero to the max, huh?"

"I don't know if I should be offended or not…"

"There's still time for you to redeem yourself." Klaus steps forward, patting Luther's shoulder sympathetically. "But I'll let it slide since you're head over prehensile feet for Allison."

"I don't…" Luther looks even more confused than before. Klaus considers it a talent.

"It was a monkey reference— you know since you're—" Klaus begins.

"I'm not in love with Allison." Luther gets out quickly, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

He doesn't know why he's so ashamed of it, it's not like it's a secret at this point. Practically everyone knows that he's got it bad for her. A bumbling idiot just looking for love like everyone else, only that his idea of true love lies with the same woman who happens to be his sister.

 _'Step-sister,'_ his brain supplies.

Not that it mattered.

They're adults now and completely capable of making their own choices. He loved Allison, more than he could ever possibly love himself. He just wanted her happy, and if that meant that after all this time she chose him to share in her happiness, then Luther would be all too honored to walk with her. He would go to the ends of the earth just to see her smile.

That's all he really wanted: to see her safe and living her best life— even if it wasn't with him.

Klaus raises his eyebrows, positively stoked.

"Do you honestly believe that? Is that what you tell yourself before Pogo reads you to bed every night?" He laughs sarcastically. "Oh this is too good."

"Why are you laughing? That is highly personal, okay. You can't just—"

"I bet it is." Klaus makes a fisting motion, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

Luther slaps his shoulder just as Allison walks in, Diego following close behind like a begrudging child.

"We're home!" Allison shouts from the front.

"Oh, great, the boy scout's here."

"Says Ozzy," Diego shouts back. He comes to stand in front of Klaus, his hair a mess and his eyes bloodshot. "Can't say I'm digging the 'out fresh from rehab' look. It's getting old, try to switch it up or something."

"Fuck you." Klaus bites back.

"No thanks. I don't want to catch a disease."

"Too late, looks like you already have jerk-acitus. You know, I hear it's deadly." Klaus narrows his eyes, getting into Diego's face.

"Wow, that's real original. Did you practice that at your AA meeting? Did everyone clap afterwards?" Diego says dryly.

He's not afraid to punch below the belt, never learns just how much he's hurting until he's doing it to someone else. The satisfaction rises even as his mind protests in disapproval.

Allison steps in between the both of them just as Klaus prepares to go off.

"Knock it off. Both of you. This is serious." She looks at Diego pointedly, her finger jamming into his chest.

"It's more than likely just Klaus being Klaus." He backs away, deciding to settle on the loveseat instead. "Probably took a bit too much last night. Either that or he popped one of the pills that he keeps stashed under the floorboard in the upstairs bathroom…in this case, expired."

Klaus looks back at him, completely floored.

"How the hell do you know about that?"

Diego rolls his eyes.

"Who do you think kept taking them back when we were in college? You always got up at the same time," he says. "You'd stay in there for hours before crawling back to your room in the morning."

"You're the one who kept stealing from my stash? All this time…" Klaus says, feigning hurt. "Unbelievable. It really is your own family…"

"Okay," Allison shakes her head. "Enough of this back and forth. Just, tell us again what happened, from the top."

Diego looks expectantly up at Klaus, his brown eyes dead and tired. Klaus becomes momentarily unnerved just by looking at them.

_Since when did Diego look this empty?_

"I… okay." He runs his shaking hands through his hair, the tips digging into his scalp. "For the last couple of months I just kept hearing these voices bothering me. They just kept buzzing and buzzing and they wouldn't leave me alone." His voice dips, exasperated. "No one ever showed up. By the time I woke up they were gone. Just...poof, nada."

Luther and Diego look on confused. He feels their eyes judging him, their minds already made up and coming to their own conclusions before they even finish hearing him out.

"Except for tonight."

"What do you mean tonight?" Diego asks. "What's so special about tonight?"

"I'm getting there," Klaus says, all jittery hands and rattled nerves. Diego almost feels sorry for him. "Tonight Ben showed himself to me. I kept hearing all these different voices telling me what to do, but I could never understand them— until now. Ben said that something was coming, that he wasn't strong enough to stop it." Klaus loses himself, talking as if he were somewhere else entirely.

"You honestly pulled me from my apartment just to tell me that what you constitute as an emergency is actually just you going on a little trip? A little trip into insanity I might add." Diego bites, not even bothering to keep the venom out of his voice.

"First of all, you live in a goddamn boiler room." Allison retorts. Her lips curl in irritation.

"Ooh, constitute… look at you using big words with that little six year old brain of yours. Let's put that on the spelling bee bingo next time! Maybe you'll get a point for it and finally win for once!" Klaus yells.

"For the record, I won that shit twice last time, asshole." Diego hisses back. Klaus flinches, his hands turning into a fist besides him as blue light starts fizzing out.

"What is your problem? Why the hell are you so pissy?" He steps right up to Diego's face. He looks down at him with contempt. "Did someone forget to take their meds?"

"You—" Diego starts right before Luther steps in between them again. His arms come to pull at Klaus gently as he leads him back onto the sofa.

"Diego, just shut up and let him finish," Luther says. Diego looks up, finally noticing the _very_ dark circles under Luther's eyes.

"Fine," he growls.

"Ben came to me—"

"Yeah, you said that already." Diego sighs, his hands coming up to rub at his temples. "Can we please get to the point. Stop with the dramatic pauses."

"I didn't just think I saw Ben, I was _there_. Right after I woke up I felt this headache coming on. Like my head was under a compressor, just squeezing."

"So… a migraine?" Luther supplies.

Klaus shakes his head, annoyed.

_Why the hell wasn't anyone listening to him?_

He was used to being the butt of the joke, the _eccentric one_ , the one that no one ever took seriously, as if he couldn't identify the truth from reality without someone's help. It didn't make it hurt any less to know that even now no one truly believed him, even when he looked like a walking corpse, even when his arms were covered in rashes from the ice. He didn't understand why he always had to be the one to redeem himself, to prove to everyone else that he was fine and completely capable of taking care of himself without setting fire to himself in the process.

"No, not like a damn migraine! It was worse. It felt like my brain was literally melting right before it burst. I just saw these white lights before waking up in this…place. At first it was just me then this thing started growing on me. It looked like ice, but it was _alive_."

"Right," Diego says in complete disbelief.

"Ben saved me and opened up this…door? He showed me this door and when I opened it was just like my room back in Rodeo. Same shitty mattress and everything." Klaus is trembling then, his scrawny arms almost vibrating the longer he talks. Diego notices how jittery he is, like he can't quite sit still or he'll combust. His hands twitch, black nail polish chipped off at the ends.

Luther raises a brow.

"You lived in California?"

Klaus makes a face, a sort of displeasure adorning his face before he relents.

"For a time... After Dad kicked me out, I had nowhere to go. I lived here for a bit before I started hitchhiking. Ended up there." He looked uncomfortable, his lips twitching as he struggled to get out the rest.

"Pray tell, Klaus." Diego pushes, not quite done with being a dick.

"Fine," He snaps. "I was an escort. It was the only way I could survive out there, okay? Can we please get back to the issue."

"Ooh, saucy." Diego leans back against the loveseat, the back of his heel bumping quietly against the trim of the seat.

"Would it kill you to be nice? Just once?" Allison smacks the side of his arm.

"Jesus here started it. But go on. Tell us more about your interdimensional excursion. Like were there aliens and did you meet God?"

"No and no. But there is something. Ben mentioned something… big, like a void. Alive. Omnipresent. It's eating through the universe. One world after the next, like it's looking for something. It tried to get him but he hid. It's only a matter of time till he finds him," Klaus finishes.

"Well, shit." Diego looks up at Klaus, his sunken eyes on full display. This was exactly the icing on his fucked up, lopsided, homemade cake and Klaus just finished toppling it over and chucking it outside the window. He wants to pretend as if the last hour didn't happen, that Klaus was just drugged up and delusional but Diego knew he wasn't.

It somehow made everything worse.

"Now we can cross out 'interdimensional demonic entity' from our apocalypse bingo," Klaus supplies.

"Because that's definitely something I was looking forward to. Maybe next time we can cross out time expulsion and being locked in a suspended reality," Allison says.

"That's the spirit," Klaus says.

"What spirit?" Luther says.

He sighs.

"The saying."

"Oh."

"So… what, we're just supposed to believe that Ben's just out there, hiding from some space Boogeyman? That another apocalypse is happening just because you said so? Cause last time I remember Ben was dead and you hadn't spoken to him in over a year!" Diego yells, ready to blow.

Klaus waves his arms around, his hands making a so-so motion before he shrugs, a sheepish smile forming on his face.

"Uhh…yeah, pretty much," he says flatly. "But, hey, at least we have a warning this time, right?"

"We had a warning last time. What's supposed to be different now?" Allison comes to sit next to Diego, her hands one over the other, a worried look coming over her face.

"We have Five now," Luther says.

Diego flinches beside Allison. He feels his skin suddenly prick up, as if just mentioning his name would summon him.

He wasn't ready to face him again, not after what was said, and definitely not after Five kissed him. He tucks his hands under his thighs, hating the way his fingers suddenly feel like a murder weapon and Five a crime scene. Diego wants to wash the feeling of him off his skin.

"Speaking of, does anybody know where Grandpa currently is? Maybe out at bingo night at the elderly home?"

Luther scowls.

"What is it with you and bingo?"

Klaus shrugs before saying, "It's a legitimate past time, Luther. You should try it next time before you hulk out."

"Sure," Luther reaffirms, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I saw Five. He was with Diego right before he left," Allison cuts in.

Klaus stops, a puzzled look coming onto his face.

He couldn't remember the last time Five came over willingly, never mind the last time he sought out any of them. It wasn't in his nature. Even after all the years of solitude he still had trouble letting others in. He could never seem to come to grips with the fact that he was alive, that even with everything that happened he didn't have to be alone.

Not that he ever saw it that way.

Five came and went as he pleased. A brief, 'good morning' before he vanished again. Nobody ever knew where he went or when he'd come back, mostly they just hoped that he wouldn't be lost to them again.

Five didn't adhere to anyone's rules, he refused to be tied down to one place, and even less, to one person. Klaus found it hard to believe that he'd go to Diego before he went to anyone else, especially if it was a problem. What the hell was Diego going to do anyway? Sass him to death? Maybe brood him to boredom? It wasn't exactly ideal.

"Oh, really." He draws closer, his gaze falling on Diego. He squirms under it. "And why's that?"

"I—" Diego struggles, his mind coming blank. He wants to shut the images out and forget everything, but he can't. Klaus smiles wickedly, his eyes lighting up at Diego's misfortune. He feels his stomach drop just as Klaus let's out a happy gasp.

_'Fuck'_

"Oh my god. You made Daddy mad didn't you?"

Allison and Luther make a face.

"I'm sorry, what?" Diego asks. "What the hell are you talking about, Klaus?"

"You and Five. You pissed in his coffee didn't you?"

Allison turns slowly towards him.

"You guys are fighting? Since when?" She asks, surprised.

Diego suddenly regrets coming here. Since when was it anybody's business what happened in his personal life? What happened between him and Five was irrelevant. You know what, no — how dare Klaus even try to bring it up? What did that even have to do with the shit fest that was currently going down now?

"We're not," he says, much to the contrary.

Klaus smiles wider, realization finally dawning on him.

"This is what earlier was about? Oh…this is gold." He taps his fingers excitedly against one another. "It figures that you'd screw up right when we need him most," Klaus supplies, most unhelpfully.

"Diego, what did you do?" Luther looks at him accusingly.

He feels hot suddenly, the collar of his shirt practically choking him inside the living room's walls. His head starts swimming, his ears vibrating as the silence stretches out. He gets the feeling that this moment is purely the direct result of all his past choices coming to haunt him, the curtain call in a last hurrah before the trumpets roll in and he's pronounced a dead man. Even now Five was getting the last laugh.

"We had a…disagreement. It was stupid."

_'As stupid as wildly passionate one night stands go, at least.'_

"Look," Diego says, lifting his hand in a halting motion. "It doesn't matter. What does matter however is finding him. It's not like the little bastard has a phone."

"Will he even help us? I mean, the first time we were pretty much on our own," Allison says.

"He will," Luther states confidently.

"Yeah and why's that?" Diego asks besides himself. "First time around he left us to rot. Who's to say he won't this time?"

"Because you're gonna find him," Luther says, a tight smile forming on his lips before he pats Diego on the arm and gets up. Klaus follows, shooting him a dirty look as he flips him off. Allison sighs, almost excusing herself before she gets up as well.

"Hold up. Where the hell are you guys going? The conversation isn't over." Diego yells back. He jumps up, following Klaus right to the corner that leads up the stairs and into their rooms.

"Oh, I think it is. Have a good hunting party, Zorro. As for me, I'm going to bed. So good luck!" Klaus replies deprecatingly, patting the side of Diego's face before he climbs up the stairs and fucks off to his room.

"You guys have got to be kidding me!" He yells up the stairs, his frame practically leaning over the rail. He waits there, his mind going a million miles per hour, only to be met with silence.

Figures.

*

Five sways under the lights, his body practically gravitating back towards Diego's apartment. He feels his legs wobble, the front of his foot dragging against the sidewalk before he almost falls. He leans against the wall for support, his hair disheveled and toppled over his face. In his hand the bottle sways before it slips and shatters across the floor. The glass glistens in the moonlight, the shards practically calling to him, his reflection morphed into a myriad of jagged edges and too colorful sights.

What the hell was he doing out here, broken up over some non-existent romance with a mentally unstable man-child?

 _'It takes one to know one,'_ his brain supplies.

He hates it— hates that he's reverted back into this love-addled teenager that's lusting over a man that had already grown up and experienced the world without him. Everyone had moved on and left him behind. He was both simultaneously as much a child as he was an outsider. He teetered constantly between the margins of being too old to truly be one of them but not developed enough to catch up where it mattered.

He was a barely contained mess of a man that never truly belonged anywhere. Coming to grips with that fact wasn't easy. He agonized over it, his skin scratched raw and burned with bruises.

_'It doesn't have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this: if you never time traveled— you never got caught up with the Handler, what would have happened?'_

He remembers looking back at Diego passed out on the floor, his face pressed against the carpet, blood barely running off the side of his cheek. His chest constricted, almost in betrayal, as he looked at him. He pushed the longing down back then, he was afraid and in denial, convinced that it was something trivial. He thought it would pass, that seeing him after all those years would mean nothing.

He was a fool.

_'I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everyone else around here.'_

Five's knees buckle as he slides down the wall and into the glass. He rests his weight on it, his skin digging into the shards until he feels the tips graze him, almost touching but not enough to pierce his skin. He grabs a handful and chucks the pieces sloppily into the air, the glass falling onto the street like rain. He wants to scream, to squeeze Diego's little pathetic neck till it bursts, just long enough that the pain resides. He tries standing up, his scraped up knees trembling under the pressure before he decides to sit back down on the sidewalk. He'd wait here for him and demand answers.

 _'What else is there to say?'_ his brain responds mockingly. _'You've said all that needs to be said and still you were rejected. Maybe it's time you pack it up, little boy wonder.'_

He feels his head loll, his eyes struggling to stay open as he rests his head against the wall.

Diego had to come home eventually.

*

He passes out just long enough that he feels the sensation slowly trickling out of his limbs before he's slapped gently awake. His vision swims, eyes barely able to focus before he notices long hair and too familiar eyes. Five can barely keep the overtly fond expression off his face as Diego's face finally comes into view, crystalline and just as lovely as ever. He reaches out faintly just as Diego flinches back. His stomach sinks, his fingers retreating back onto his lap.

"Five…" he hesitates. Diego cups his face again, soft fingers holding up his jaw. "What are you doing here?" He asks quietly, his voice tinged with regret.

Diego looks at him, all wide eyed and full of concern. Five almost laughs. He sure as hell didn't care when he turned him away earlier. What could have possibly changed between now and then?

Five jerks away from his grasp, his jaw pulled taut and his eyes aflame.

"What does it look like?"

Diego gives him a look, all soft and drenched in pity. Five hates it.

He hates a lot of things lately.

"Like you're gonna catch a cold." Diego pauses, almost debating with himself before he gets close to Five again. "Come on, let's get you inside."

He slips his arms under his knees, placing his shoulder right by Five's head as he slowly lifts him up. He sinks into Diego's chest. He was stronger than Five remembers, his muscles straining under his shirt as he carries him over the steps and into the building. He feigns weakness and blames, most importantly, his toxicity on the way that he practically curls against him, his nose pressed against the crook of his neck and his hands grabbing onto his shoulders as Diego carries him into his room. He lays him down softly onto the bed before removing his jacket. Five stares at him, green eyes illuminated by the hanging lantern above him. Diego's eyes cling to him, equally captivating in their own way. He feels the familiar tug again. Suddenly he's wide awake, the desire pooling inside him.

Diego coughs, uncomfortable. He looks down at Five then promptly averts his gaze again. He fidgets there, his hands digging into his pockets awkwardly before he talks.

"Uh… I'm gonna take a shower. Stay put." He tries to sound authoritative but more than anything he just comes off as nervous. Five rolls his eyes and lifts his arms above his head, relishing the way Diego's eyes trail down to the exposed skin of his stomach before he catches himself.

"Whatever you say, boss," he drawls, half drunk and half awake. He smirks as he watches Diego's lips slightly twitch.

"Ok-ay then," he shoots off quickly as he runs off. Five watches his form retreat, drinking in the way Diego's back ripples slightly as his shoulders move and pull the shirt over his head.

Five looks on, warring with himself before he lays back down.

Only when Diego's gone and he hears the bathroom door shut does he sit up, eyes blown wide as he slinks towards his vicinity. He presses his ear against the door, hearing only silence before the shower starts, Diego's quiet moans filtering out from the other side minutes later. Five's knees press together, his hands inching towards the doorknob almost reflexively.

 _'Do not,'_ his brain growls.

He retracts his hand, his skin now hot with embarrassment.

What right did he have to encroach upon Diego's privacy like this? He was practically an unabashed pervert at this point, so desperate for love that he's willing to degrade himself into a pathetic mess. Love. Such a needlessly vapid word. What did it truly mean at the end of the day? Devotion? Sacrifice? Power? Immunity?

He walks towards Diego's fridge and pours himself a cold brew, his hands shaking as he sits at the table. His fingers itch for him, they tap against the too cold mug until they turn numb, sweat dripping down the length of his fingers. He thinks to teleport away, to save himself the shame of being denied a second time. It makes him sick, the way he practically loses himself in Diego. One look and he was ready to abandon all reason, even if he knew he was wrong, even if he knew that he should've walked away all those nights ago; but he can't.

He's so obsessed with the idea of being wanted that he doesn't care if he becomes an object in the process. Everyone gets used, everyone is always some scapegoat for somebody else's bullshit, it wasn't anything new.

But he can pretend… he can pretend that Diego sees him, truly sees him for what he is, all jagged edges and burnt out fragments with all the ugly truths that he was too cowardly to admit. For just one night, he can pretend that Diego loves him, that when he looks away and tells him to go, it's in love. That when he hurts him again, it'll be because he wanted it.

He reappears moments later, hair wet and fully dressed. Five can't help the disappointment that blossoms. He trails his eyes over him anyway. He takes in the way his shoulders are set in a hard line, his arms boxed in like he's protecting himself, though whether it's from Five or himself he can't tell— doesn't want to know. He feels Diego tense the closer he gets, as if he's afraid of being left alone with him with only his thoughts and desires and no buffer to truly separate them. He stays put, just as he's told, watching as Diego sits on his bed, his thighs digging into the dip where he laid, elbows tucked into his sides.

He sighs.

"Why are you here, Five?" Diego says. His face settles into vague disappointment, though his eyes betray him completely.

He knows what Five's capable of, knows that his tongue is just as dangerous as any weapon he could possibly wield, knows that he has the power to completely unravel him in seconds with just the right words muttered at just the right time. His hands a sort of key into his undoing, each finger breaking apart the pieces till he's open and wanton. Like a clementine left to bleed out and dry in the sun.

For a moment Five doesn't say anything, he just stares blankly. He doesn't want to be the first one to fold and crumble, doesn't want to be the one who _cares_ , doesn't want to be considered weak. He mulls it over, emulating a sort of innocence before his eyes zero in on Diego again. Like a cat he slinks forward, his eyes focused only on him. Diego tries to shrink into himself, his hands flying into the air to avoid touching him as Five crawls onto his lap. He nuzzles into him, his nose pressed against his jugular, taking in the way Diego's pulse speeds underneath his touch.

He breathes him in, his arms draped over his shoulders and clasped behind Diego's back. Time seems to still just for him, as if giving him leeway to savor the moment properly, just enough so he can take in the way Diego's thighs slot underneath his so perfectly or the way his chest practically hums in response. Five trails a hand down under his shirt, his palm resting flat on the nape of his neck before he crawls down and scratches his nails faintly between Diego's shoulder blades. He feels his skin break out in goosebumps.

"Tell me to go and I'll forget about this. Just… tell me you don't want it, Diego," Five says, his voice deeper than he had ever heard it before and laced with such lust that he's left reeling. He feels Diego's breath on his ear, turning slowly from a steady rhythm into a haphazard mess.

He has to time it right, has to sink his claws into Diego in just the right way where he doesn't feel caged, where he doesn't know just how trapped he is until it's too late. Five pulls his face up, his lips trailing over Diego's neck, his teeth nipping at the area there as he makes his way to the corner of his mouth. His hands ghost over his skin, taking their time in feeling him out before they come to the sides of Diego's face, holding him in place as he reaches in tentatively for a kiss.

Diego stops him, shaking hands paralyzed with fear. If he kisses him back now, he can never go back, he can't pretend anymore, he can't keep Five from hurting him.

Five stares back at him, challenging him silently with his captivating eyes.

"Tell me, Diego. Say it— say you don't want me," he pleads, his lips coming to rest on Diego's cheek, his beard scratching against his skin.

"I—" Diego can't move, he can't think straight with Five on top of him, can't see himself past the feel of his body inside of him. His hands come down, gentle fingers resting on wrinkled cotton before sinking in. Five practically purrs as Diego pulls him even closer against him, his lips a snarl as he kisses Five harshly, teeth bumping against teeth and mouths painfully sore— each push sending him farther into the deep end.

Five feels a tear suddenly run down his cheek, his hands gripping Diego's face for dear life, practically begging for mercy, anything to free him from this goddamn curse.

"Say it. Just fucking say it, you selfish prick."

Diego keeps kissing him, his lips unrelentingly digging into Five's as he wraps his arms around his waist and locks him in place. He's so lost in him, so mesmerized by Five that he doesn't realize he's already let go, his inhibitions stripped and flayed open for him to see.

"No," Diego mutters breathlessly against his lips, his tongue swiping at the bottom of his mouth before he kisses him again, his fingers slipping underneath his shirt. "No way in hell, sweetheart."

Five practically sighs against him, his shoulders relaxing as if Diego had finally taken off an unimaginable burden.

He lets Diego touch him then, his shaking hands pulling at his vest before he chucks it across the room. Diego never once stops kissing him as he slowly undresses him, one button taken off every thirty seconds, the feel of hands pressing into his skin, memorizing the way it feels under his touch before he moves on to the next. He was an attentive lover, always slow and steady until Five pushed him for more. His lips trail over every patch of skin he can find, his slight stubble scratching him occasionally. It makes the experience even more exhilarating, to know that what Five had in his grasp was all man, that Diego could destroy him just as easily as he could, that they would always be equals, someway and somehow; even when it didn't feel like it, even when he was sick of the way they made each other hurt.

_'That's it. Just tear me apart. Ruin me.'_

Five arches his back, contouring to the way Diego's hand splays over his spine and dips into his hips, his other hand coming to pull at his own zipper.

Five basically jumps at the chance, his hungry lips clashing against Diego's as their hands bump into each other. He closes his eyes, feeling for it blind and pulling it down right before Diego kicks his pants off, only for his skin to meet with Diego's very naked lower half.

 _'Even better,'_ he growls.

Five jumps off of him, Diego's lips practically trailing after him as he eagerly takes off the rest of his clothes. Diego lays there, all golden tan skin and tousled hair, staring at Five like he's the most beautiful thing in the world. He tries not letting it go to his head as he crawls back over him, his knees spread out on either side of him and his arms joined above Diego's head. He feels the sensation of Diego's hand trailing down his back, his fingers digging into the space between his ribs, feeling them one by one, teasing— tantalizing, as he maintains complete eye contact. He finally reaches the bottom, his index finger trailing over his tailbone before he wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him down on top of him, skin to skin, their breaths ghosting over each other's faces in euphoria.

"Are you gonna stare at me all night or are you going to fuck me?" Five whispers, daring and brash against Diego's lips. His mouth pulls up in a smirk as his eyes turn dark in desire, Diego's hand caressing his side as his breath quickens.

"Patience, sweetheart." Diego laughs, free and earnest. Five feels himself fall even harder.

"Screw that," Five says, his eyes boring into Diego as he wiggles out of his grip and moves down towards the edge of the bed, his knees on the floor and his mouth practically on his dick. He looks up at him, his eyes lighting up as Diego's pupils widen, his usually brown eyes now almost black.

He watches as Five bends down, his hand coming to touch his dick as his tongue trails over it slowly, the pointed tip grazing over his veins one by one before going up to his head. Diego watches mesmerized, before he plants his head against the mattress, his body vibrating as Five touches him.

"You're gonna kill me," he groans.

"Only in the best way," he replies, a slight tease in his voice.

He focuses only on Diego, on the way he feels, on the way he _tastes_ , on the way he's practically melting in his hands. He wants more, wants to see him undone and screaming his name.

Five picks up the pace then, his mouth coming to take him in. He closes his eyes and relies on his senses to do the work for him, his tongue spread out over the rest of him while he gags on the tip, hollowed cheeks and twisting hands. He changes it up, going relentlessly at it at one moment only to slow it down just as Diego's about to climax. He feels the spit trailing along his lips, the liquid mixed in with Diego's precum until everything blends in together. He enjoys it, likes the way he has him eating out of the palm of his hand and almost falling apart.

"Fuck," Diego groans.

Five smiles wickedly.

He pulls it out, Diego's dick springing from his mouth with a pop and glistening in the dimming lights. He pulls it close to his face, the tip poking against his cheek. He looks at Diego, his eyes locked on as he brings his tongue out and licks a long trail over it, his fingers rubbing it slightly as it twitches in his hand. Five sees it as something holy, his knees buried into the hard wooden floor, aching and red, as he worships Diego's body like gospel, his skin an altar to pour himself out over, golden eyes turned up to the sun in ecstasy.

"Beg for it," Five growls. "Show me how much you want it."

Diego _whimpers_ , his brows pulled tight like he's about to cry just from his absence. He feels his throat dry up as Five's hand slides up his pelvis, his fingers weaving through the slightly trimmed hair there before settling on his abdomen. Soft fingers trail circles on his skin, Five looking on with the utmost innocence as if he wasn't outright torturing him right then and there in real time.

"Please—" Diego starts.

Five smirks, giving a slow lick before swiping his tongue around the top. It dances over the tip, the end of his tongue rubbing against the slit achingly slow.

"Not good enough." He says leisurely, his voice dipping at the end. "Tell me how you want it."

Diego stares, ready to completely lose it before he reaches for Five's hair. He digs his hand into his scalp, his fingers slightly twisting into it as he lowers his face back down onto his dick. Five hisses in pleasure as he feels the sharp pull, the roots of his hair spun tight.

_'Rough it is.'_

He could do that. He'd certainly done it plenty of times before.

 _'Never like this, '_ his brain supplies.

He tries not to think about it, to picture the way Diego's shape could be exchanged for countless others.

"Do you want me to take you whole?" Five smiles, looking up at him through his lashes, positively charming and not at all teasing. "Do you want to see how much more I can take of you before it touches the back of my throat?"

He doesn't wait for a response.

He stares speechless as Five takes him back in. Diego's eyes blow wide in arousal as Five's nose digs into his pubic bone, brows scrunching up as he pushes himself all the way down. Diego feels his throat trying to close up against him, his trachea bulging as he digs even deeper before Five forces it open again. He stares up at him, his eyes on the verge of tears as he holds it there before he pulls back up. Diego holds his fringe up in place, watching in fascination as his lips glint in the light, red and swollen. He repeats the process, short gags sounding off in the room, each time longer than their predecessors, Five's chest spasming slightly against the inside of his thighs.

Diego feels himself teetering on the edge, his shaking hands barely holding onto Five as he practically takes him apart. One more stroke, just one more flick of his tongue before he feels himself unravel.

Five holds him in place, his hand spread out over his stomach as he strokes him intently, long fingers squeezing at just the right intervals, nails scraping against his skin. Diego sees him in his mind, splayed out, a golden halo circling him, wings spread out and encompassing his body like a deity. Five's eyes bore into him, the green of his irises glowing in the dark before fading out.

He takes the tip into his mouth again, hollowing out his cheeks and swivelling his tongue over the opening before taking Diego fully. He feels his whole body seize as he tries to process what's going on.

Five doesn't let him.

He starts moving his head quickly, his hand stroking him at the same pace and tilting him over the edge.

When he comes, Diego pushes his head all the way down, his nose pressed against his skin as his cum leaks into the back of his throat. Five pulls his head back just in time, a trail connecting to Diego, his face red as he jerks him off the rest of the way.

He brings his dick against the corner of his mouth, his lips slick with spit before Diego cums over his hand. A few drops land on the side of his cheek, right next to his lips. His body shivers as he locks eyes, holding Diego's gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks the cum off it, his tongue coming to swipe at the corner where some of it remained. He can see it in his eyes, how he just wants to break— he feels it too.

He flexes his hand inside Five's hair before letting go, choosing instead to bunch the back of his hair into a fist, using it somewhat like a leash as he tugs him up slowly. Five crawls over him, his jaw stiff and sore as Diego leads him to kneel on top of his lap, his dick pressing against the back of his ass.

"Holy shit. Where the hell did you learn to do that?" Diego asks breathless.

Five dips down, his hands coming to caress his face as he kisses him slowly. Diego places his hands on his thighs, stroking them softly through the high.

He can taste himself on Five's lips.

"You don't want to know," he retorts.

"The hell I do," Diego replied back alarmed, the tilt of his voice telling him it was as much a jest as it was a serious statement.

Diego's hands grip his face, soft and wanting as he pulls him flush against him, his teeth hitting his mouth hard before Five slots against him correctly. He tries to keep up with him but everything that happens next is a blur. Hands twist him around, a body getting on top of him warm and just right, legs gripping his sides, the smell of cologne addled by sweat. It swims around him, permeating the air and sinking into his skin.

He feels the sting of bite marks on his neck and the pressure that accompanies them. He closes his eyes, placing his hand on Diego's hip and moving his fingers over his ribs to feel the bones. He traces over them, imagining them as a path to all salvation. He can see the light, sees Diego's face illuminated by the sun and surrounded by those flowers with the plum red centers (perennial dahlias, his brain supplies through the haze). He's in love. He knows it— knows that Diego can tell, even if he never says anything. He knows it's written all over his face, in the way he touches him, in the way he speaks his name when their lips part and they're just laying there, naked and tangled up in each other's limbs— and it scares him.

Diego looks down at him almost as if he wants to devour him whole.

Five parts his legs and stretches them out towards him. Diego comes to hold them reflexively, his hands dragging along the length of them before they reach his ass.

Diego stops, measuring him up.

"Tell me to stop and I will— no questions asked." Five knows what he's doing, sees his face suddenly morph into guilt as he towers over him. He's giving him a second chance, a way out where they can both forget about what they're committing to tonight and go about their lives.

Five's stomach sinks at the prospect.

He shakes his head vehemently.

"No."

Diego quirks his brows, not entirely surprised.

"No?" Diego smiles, his canines sticking out from his mouth. He dips his head, kissing along his legs before he reaches the inside of his thighs. He nips into the skin there, eyes glued onto him as his tongue laps onto the forming bruise. "Last chance to tap out, princess."

"I want you inside of me," he heaves.

It acts like a switch inside of Diego, as if giving him all the permission he needed.

Five barely finishes before Diego scoops him up and hauls his legs over his shoulders. He leans slightly to the side to grab something before he drenches his fingers in it. Five watches as the clear liquid runs down his hand, Diego's face completely transfixed as he lifts his hips up and trails one finger over his ass.

He clenches his eyes shut as Diego pushes in. It feels cold and uncomfortable as they wait there, his hips trembling under the weight.

"Does it hurt?"

Five shakes his head no, barely able to function as Diego moves it gently back and forth before he adds another finger.

"Wait—" he starts, right before he curves them, the tip of his fingers digging deep inside him. They work him open slowly, Diego kissing the edge of his thighs as Five sinks his nails into him.

_'Holy fuck.'_

Diego watches him, taking in as Five's hair curls in on itself against his temple, his pink lips parted open in bliss. He watches as he folds into himself, his hips bucking slightly onto Diego's fingers while he pants.

He takes his time, not wanting to rush Five, not wanting to be the kind of guy that just takes and never gives, the kind that _hurts_. Even with him in his grasp, it still didn't feel real. Watching Five fuck himself with his fingers felt as much a fantasy as it did a nightmare.

On one hand, he was here, practically vibrating in front of him, his chest glistening with sweat as he tries not to moan from his touch, Diego's arms flexing as he tries to keep him in place. But on the other hand he was _here_ , tangled up in Diego, his body gravitating towards him like his life depended on it. Something inside of him recoiled in disgust. It called him a traitor, a _defiler_.

The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt him, yet Diego already knows that whatever they have between them will always end in tragedy. A lost ship destined to be consumed by flames, a charred corpse amidst the wreckage. They can try to stop it, to ignore it long enough to where they can pretend it no longer affects them, but it'll always fester— an open wound fit to rot, the blood turning a sickly yellow in disease. Diego knows this, and yet he leans forward, lowering Five's hips onto his lap.

He trails his fingers over his skin. He can't process it, can't believe that he's really here, practically inviting him in, the back of his heels digging into Diego's back and coaxing him forward. Diego complies, the last of his resolve slipping as he aligns his dick with Five's ass and slides in. He feels his body seize in surprise, his hips sticking back up in the air again so he doesn't slide down and take all of Diego in too quick. It hurts briefly, tingling at the edges and stiff. Diego caresses his side, his eyes conveying something that Five can't quite take apart or analyze.

"Relax," he says, his voice barely a croak. "And let me do all the work."

Five swallows, completely consumed by him and turned on by how much Diego cared.

He wasn't surprised by how much Diego was willing to please him, to bend the rules just enough to where it felt like Five was always winning. He let him take control and set his own pace. Diego knows the way he operates, knows how he's always clinging to predetermined functions and ideals. That if he doesn't take control of everything at all times he'll surely fall apart. But Diego doesn't let up, he pulls Five's legs down and apart, one on either side of him, his knees laying almost flat on the bed.

Diego's lips come to press against his just as he gives the first thrust. His legs tremble as he pushes all the way in, his hips slotting against Five's. He goes slow, drawing it out, his breath melting into him.

Five's voice hitches suddenly, breaking off at the end as Diego pulls out and back in again. He can feel Five's hand rubbing over his nipple, his ring finger hooked on the piercing there. He tugs slightly as Diego's arms wrap under his knees and pull into him. He looks on as Diego's necklace bounces off his chest, his collarbones drenched in sweat.

 _'A broken man is never easy to tame.'_ He hears her voice inside his head again, visualizes her face coming into view with too wide of a smile.

Five didn't understand it back then. If something was broken it was easier to dispose of— to cripple. It could be hidden away and forgotten about. It could be manipulated in a thousand different ways if need be without too much of a fight. But that wasn't what the Handler meant, not truly. It was about control, it always was. If something is broken too far beyond repair there's nothing that can be done to fix it or sway it. It becomes useless. It was stuck being what it had always been, unmovable in static, a wrong set bone, a broken suture.

 _'And why's that?'_ He hears himself ask, yet not actually wanting to know.

She smiles deviously, like a snake without its venom, but still just as deadly.

 _'Because it has nothing left to lose.'_ she supplies. _'It becomes reckless— a loose cannon, you can say. Don't you agree? I mean look at you. You gave everything up and for what? A second chance?'_ her lips tilt mockingly. _'How sweet._ '

He tries shutting his eyes but Diego protests.

"Oh, no you don't." He draws his hips out before he slams into him, a smirk adorning his face as Five's eyes shoot open. "That's right. Just look at me," he pulls him by his thighs, forcing Five all the way onto him. He watches as the skin there ripples with the motion "Just." he thrusts into him, each press digging into Five. "Like." he moans, hands spasming against Diego's stomach, "That."

"Just keep those pretty eyes on me." Five arches into him, Diego leaning down to kiss him as he moves inside him. He tries to suppress the sounds, his lips caught between his teeth, broken moans forcing themselves out of his mouth in quiet hiccups.

"Diego, just— _fuck_ ," he manages to barely get out.

Diego boxes him in, his teeth pulling on his lip before he dips down and focuses on his neck, his voice gravelly and ticklish against his skin.

"I know you can do better than that." He licks up his neck, sucking on his jugular just before his tongue reaches inside his mouth. Five wraps his arms around his neck, wanting him closer yet pushing him off just as Diego's hands come to encircle his hips.

Confusion mars Diego's face momentarily before he climbs on top, his aching legs enveloping him.

He lifts his hips up and suspends it over Diego's dick, swaying slightly in place, teasing him as he looks on through a haze.

"Careful what you wish for." He feels for his dick behind him, Diego's hand coming to help him as he holds it up for Five, the other resting on his hip.

Five lets himself fall back on it, a gasp escaping from his lips. He waits for a second, just until he can get used to the new position before he moves again. He starts off slow, gyrating his hips on top of Diego, trying it out until he gets the feel for it.

He puts all his weight in it, rocking against Diego as large hands sink into the space above his thighs.

Five can smell Diego underneath him, his cologne wafting faintly around them as he sweats. Everything about Diego drove him crazy. If it wasn't the knives, it was the scars, or the voice… or the _danger_ . He was attracted instinctually to it, like a shark in blood addled water. He always found a way to dance around it, inching ever closer and tempting it before he jumped out of the way at the last second. He liked the adrenaline that washed over him most of all, the satisfaction of doing something absolutely reckless and having it turn out fine anyway. Diego was the same way. Always acting out before he thought of the consequences.

Five admired that about him sometimes. It meant he wasn't a prisoner in his own mind, that he wasn't locked on to one completely made up ideal after the next, that he was free to be who he wanted without reservation.

"You were saying?"

Five lifts up all the way and slams back onto Diego. He feels his dick bury into him, bulging against his insides. Five takes the pain, each thrust pushing him over the edge. Diego leans forward and licks the trail of sweat off his stomach, his fingers pushing their way into Five's mouth, his index and middle finger holding down his tongue. Five opens his mouth wider, using Diego's fingers as a gag as he rides him to muffle his ever increasing moans.

He bites down, Diego's eyes solely on him. He sees his reflection in them. He looks like a wild animal, his stomach contracting as he breathes, his hips snapping up and down messily, barely in rhythm against sweat slickened skin. He watches himself, taking in the way he arches on top of him, his face scrunching up and his neck taut as Diego's fingers push in further.

He keeps staring, the lights of the city twinkling behind heavy lids. In his eyes Five sees the world reflected in them, bright and burning, staring up at him with a gaze equal to a thousand lovers. He wants to savor the moment, to close his eyes and imagine his form dancing in his mind; enticing him into a soft trance.

Five thinks he'll never love someone as much as this.

He pulls Diego's fingers from his mouth and comes down to kiss him one last time, Diego's arms wrapping around his midsection. He bucks into him slowly, giving him time to breathe before he picks up again, Diego's fingers digging into his side as he proceeded to fuck his brains out. Five feels the vein on the front of his face twitch, broken sobs leaving his mouth as aching fingers try to hold on, his eyes forming tears as Diego nips at his jaw.

Small stars burrow under his skin where his fingertips touch, searing and all too intimate. With each kiss Five feels more of himself break— cracking under the pressure only to reform anew, a swirling galaxy expanding until it bursts into their forms. Their two souls finally becoming one.

He notices too late the way his eyes are practically glowing, a wave of energy surrounding him as time stills around them. He feels them conjoin, their powers dancing around each other before they transform into something new. As he comes, blinding blue light encircles them, pulsing as Diego finishes inside him. He lets out a deafening scream as it ripples through him, the energy burning him like electricity. The room shakes, the lights flickering on and off in response. He feels his heart hammering inside his chest, fit to burst as the last of his powers stretch out along the room.

He opens his eyes just long enough to see it weave back and forth, Diego's eyes wide open in alarm. The light buzzes around them, alive in its intent.

"Five! What the hell is going on?" He asks, trying to snap him out of it.

He collapses as another wave hits him, his chest spasming in intervals as Diego's hands try to hold him up.

He can't stop it.

He watches helplessly as their forms slowly disappear, Diego's tan skin being consumed by blinding blue as Five reaches out to him.

He feels his skin tingle, the energy waves gliding along his skin before he becomes lost to it too and disappears.

The apartment lays still in their absence then, the wrinkled sheets settling against the mattress. Diego's fridge hums quietly in the night, the lights around the room blinking slowly and returning to function as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Across the floor their clothes spread out over each other like a crime scene, Five's half drunk coffee and their left-over scent the only real indication that they were ever truly there.

When morning comes it remains in their wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! They've finally started off on their adventure!
> 
> Can anybody guess where they landed?
> 
> If you liked it please let me know, nothing makes my day like reading some lovely feedback.
> 
> Also make sure to check out the playlist! I promise it's worth your time. :D
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2xThRQo5JnYj70n04RO9DA?si=YXr1aNj2RImceVR5apWf0Q


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